


pull you in like the waves of the sea

by ellie_cat



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Comfort Reading, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Irish Folklore, M/M, Not Beta Read, ONEUS are Selkies, Past Abuse, Selkie Partner Support Group, Small Towns, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Taverns, The Author Regrets Nothing, mention(s) of abuse, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_cat/pseuds/ellie_cat
Summary: In the sleepy seaside town Hwanwoong has come to find a safe haven in, he's up on luck but down on friends. No, the older women who coo over his manners and ask if he's eating enough don't count. Mr. Lee the beekeeper might.One morning, a sleepy, beautiful boy in a gray fur coat walks in and changes all of that.
Relationships: Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	pull you in like the waves of the sea

It’s been six months since Hwanwoong’s moved to this dreary seaside town, and he still hasn’t made any friends. Usually, this isn’t that big of a deal to him, but after the last year, he could really use one. 

It’s not that he hasn’t tried to make one either, it’s just that no one his age really seems to want to spend more time around him than necessary. His coworkers are cordial to him, warm at times even, but no one asks him for dinner or lunch after a shift, no one invites him to any parties. 

The older people love him though, he flashes them a smile and compliments the little old ladies on their earrings and they’ve adopted him as one of their own. The closest thing he has to a friend is the lady who runs the fresh produce stand he’s become accustomed to shopping at whenever she has enough to set up shop for a weekend. 

She sneaks him extra tomatoes and a bag of strawberries every so often for some of his fresh cinnamon bread he’s taken to learning how to make. 

No one asks about where he’s come from though, or why he left to settle in this town, of all places. That’s nice, he doesn’t have to lie or hedge the topic or tell them what he thinks they want to hear. It keeps him from thinking about it too much, and it’s getting easier to breathe every day. It gets easier to wake up and go about his day without the weight of the city dragging him back into the empty comfort of his sheets. 

Right now, he’s wiping down the bar counter and trying to ignore the way it reminds him of his old job, his old regulars, the people he used to work with, used to consider friends. Getting up today was harder, and he misses the warmth of his sheets and hates how crisp the air is. 

The door opens somewhere in the middle of this, but Hwanwoong doesn’t immediately register it, too focused on getting the stickiness of one of the older lady’s morning mimosas off the polished wood. 

His coworker greets whoever it is, and he takes it to mean he can go back to zoning out, because only one of them is really needed to take care of a customer at this time of day. There’s an older couple in the back corner enjoying their breakfasts, and a young mother with her new baby enjoying some coffee and cake, which seems to ease the circles darkening her eyes, and they’re all taken care of, so surely his coworker can handle the one that just came in. 

The only thing that has him looking up is the sound of someone sliding into one of the bar stools, and when he looks up he vaguely forgets to breathe. The boy who just slid into the stool looks equal parts beautiful and cute, blinking owlishly like he’s still half-asleep. 

“How can I help you?” Hwanwoong asks on autopilot, the result of years of working in establishments like this one. 

“One hot chocolate, extra whipped cream,” the boy says, voice low with sleep. “If you still have those chocolate sprinkles, those too.”

“I’m not sure, I’d have to check,” Hwanwoong says, glancing around for his coworker. 

“It’s ok if you don’t,” the boy says, leaning his head onto his palm, eyes half closed. 

“I don’t mind checking,” Hwanwoong says, “It looks like you might need it.”

“Mmm,” the boy hums, “Maybe.”

“I’ll be right back,” Hwanwoong says, coming back five minutes later with a cup filled with hot chocolate and a frankly concerning amount of whipped cream topped with chocolate sprinkles. “Here you are,” Hwanwoong announces, setting it down gently, alongside a napkin with a spoon resting on top of it. 

“Thank you,” the boy murmurs, sending him a small smile as his eyes light up at the drink. 

“Anything else?” Hwanwoong asks, and the boy shakes his head. 

“Not to eat or anything, but a name would be cool,” the boy says, taking a bite of the whipped cream off to top. Hwanwoong tilts his head at the question, but answers anyway as he goes back to wiping the counter down. 

“Hwanwoong,” he answers, “Do I get one back?”

“Sure,” the boy responds, a grin on his lips as he regards Hwanwoong, “My name is Dongju.”

“Any reason why you wanted it?” Hwanwoong asks, half-smiling. 

“I come here every spring and summer and live in the boarding house. I know everybody here, but you were a new face,” Dongju answers, “Not often we get new faces around here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hwanwoong says, sighing, “I needed a change of scenery.”

“Don’t we all?” Dongju murmurs, going back to his whipped cream monstrosity. 

Hwanwoong just hums and goes back to wiping the counter down, even though it’s more than clean enough, but it’s not like he has anything better to do. His head is a lot clearer now at least, and now he’s thinking about what he wants to make for dinner. 

“Thanks for this,” Dongju says, sliding a five dollar bill towards him, “The rest is your tip.”

“I didn’t do much,” Hwanwoong half-protests and Dongju slides off the chair. It’s then that Hwanwoong realizes he never took off his jacket, a light-looking fur drape. It would look off on anyone else, Hwanwoong thinks, but Dongju makes it work. 

“You did plenty,” Dongju says, eyes scrunched in amusement. 

“Have a good day,” Hwanwoong as Dongju turns to go, clutching the bill in his hands. 

“See you around,” Dongju says back, waving a bit as he turns and walks out of the door. 

His coworkers bumps his shoulder, a small smirk on her face as she looks at him. 

“Don’t do it,” she says, but there’s no bite to it. “I think everyone in this town around his age gets a crush on him at some point. But he’s never showed any interest.”

“I didn’t-,” Hwanwoong starts to protest, but stops when she just laughs and shakes her head. 

“It’s all over your face, hun,” she says, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ll get over it, we always do.”

“Okay,” Hwanwoong agrees, and cashes Dongju out, ignoring the weight of the tip in his pockets for the rest of his shift. 

He almost forgets about it as he shops around the farmer’s market that’s been set up. All the good stuff was taken earlier, when he’d meant to go, but today had been a bad day and it’d taken much longer to get up than usual, and he hadn’t been able to go before. 

Until he bumps into Dongju, staring with something like jealousy at the honey stand, where there’s two jars of honey left and a honey candle. Hwanwoong has one of the candles at home, an almost empty jar of it too (sue him, it’s good on just about anything). 

“Can I get the last two jars? And the candle?” Hwanwoong asks the little old man that runs the stand, who brightens when he approaches and gladly agrees, who only makes him pay for the candle and one of the jars because he helps him out with the yard work whenever he gets time. 

“Oh, and uh, one of the jars in a separate bag,” Hwanwoong says, glancing over his shoulder where Dongju has started walking away, a droop to his shoulders. 

He catches up to the other just as he reaches the mouth of the awning that protects the space from the rains. 

“Hey,” Hwanwoong says, relieved when the other stops short and turns to look questioningly at him. “Here,” he says, holding out the heavier bag, the one with the candle and the jar. 

“But, you bought that?” Dongju asks, looking dubiously down at the held out bag. 

“Yeah, for you,” Hwanwoong says, holding it out more. “I already have a candle, and all I needed was one of the jars. Did you forget your wallet or something?” 

“Something like that,” Dongju says, cracking half a smile as he gently takes the bag. 

“You don’t owe me anything, by the way,” Hwanwoong says, starts to turn around to head back into the market, when a hand on his sleeve stops him. 

“Thank you,” Dongju says, “No one’s done anything like that for me before.”

Hwanwoong thinks back to what his coworker had told him earlier and finds it hard to believe, but Dongju’s tone is so genuine he can’t take it for anything but the truth. 

“You’re welcome,” Hwanwoong says, “If you need something, let me know, okay?”

There’s a moment there, where it looks like Dongju’s fighting with himself, indecisive, where they just look at each other, Dongju’s hand still grasping his sleeve in that gentle careful way he’d taken the bag. 

“Okay,” Dongju says, and lets go of his sleeve. “Thank you, again.”

“Have a good night,” Hwanwoong says, flashing him a smile and heading off. 

He ends up with just a jar of honey, and makes himself one of his canned soups, eating it as he looks at the pot of honey taking up a spot on his dining table and listening to the rain hitting his roof. 

When he’d shown up, he’d lived in the boarding house until someone had pointed out that the house out on the cliffs was for sale for a small amount, because it was so old and no one had lived there in years. It had taken a good week of work to get it livable, but he was happy with what he’d made of it. Even as small as it was, as sparse as it was decorated at the moment, it was an eclectic collection of rugs, furniture, decorations and colors, and it was warm and it was home. 

A call lit up on his phone screen at that moment, pulling him out of his honey-pot-fueled reverie. There wasn’t a caller ID, but Hwanwoong didn’t need one to know who it was. His nose scrunched in contempt and he let it ring until it stopped. 

She could try all she wished, she’d made her choice and he’d made his. 

(He knew he could block her, but it gave him a small sort of satisfaction for her to know how purposefully he was ignoring her calls.)

He went to bed and lulled himself to sleep with the sound of the wind over the knolls and the rain against his roof. 

The next few weeks became a routine, his manager put him on morning shifts, interestingly enough, and he’d be there, wiping down the counter when Dongju strolled in and ordered hot chocolate monstrosity. 

He found himself teasing and getting teased by Dongju in equal measure, found himself learning about the other (twenty, from a different part of the coast but here because he liked the atmosphere) and letting the other learn about him. Dongju had yet to ask about his past, but he knew his favorite color, his hobbies, that he wasn’t actually a morning person, and that he wished he had a pet to keep him company. 

He learned Dongju loved honey, had a twin brother and friends that treated him like a younger brother from where he was from, and that he’d lost his parents young but wasn’t sad about it anymore (“I don’t remember them very well, but I knew they loved me.”). He learned Dongju lived in the Boarding House while he was here because he didn’t want to buy a house only to leave it for six months. 

“You could live with me,” Hwanwoong had joked, even if a part of him was just the tiniest bit serious, and Dongju had paused and just looked at him in a way he couldn’t figure out before shaking his head. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stand me then, it’s a miracle you can now,” and that had been it. 

Soon enough, though, Dongju was coming by to learn how to make cinnamon bread, and how to cook, and to watch movies (“You’ve never seen a Disney movie?” Hwanwoong had asked, aghast. Dongju had shrugged, “They can’t be that good.” Hwanwoong gasped, hitting him on the shoulder, “You take that back!” He had, not even two hours later as he cried watching Inside Out.) He followed along when Hwanwoong went to help out Mr.Lee the beekeeper with his hard work, and even when Hwanwoong did his own. 

Not once did he take his coat off, even when it got more than a little dirty from yard work, but Hwanwoong never asked him to take it off, not even to wash, having seen the way Dongju rubbed his face on it as he unconsciously drew closer and closer to sleep in the middle of movie marathon. Like it was something infinitely precious. 

(Dongju was infinitely precious, his mind liked to whisper whenever Dongju would fall asleep before him.) 

It was on one of the nights Dongju hadn’t come home with Hwanwoong that Hwanwoong wakes up from a nightmare, feeling suffocated and wrong and heavy. 

Ignoring the drizzles coming down, he slips on his shoes and makes his way carefully down to the beach, where only a sliver remained above water, and sat down, breathing in gulps of air like he was starving for it, feeling just a little bit more free in the open air. 

He would never be able to escape the words and things that had been done to him, both in front of his face and behind his back. Words that were knives sticking through his body all over. He hugged himself, shivering from the memories rather than the cool touch of the air on his flushed skin. 

“Hwanwoong?” A voice called out, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dongju approach from down the beach, coat clutched to his shoulders. 

“Dongju?” Hwanwoong answered, already finding it easier to breathe, easier to be. 

“What are you doing down here?” Dongju asked, settling in beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hwanwoong remained silent for a moment, listening to the crashing of the waves and Dongju’s breathing beside him. 

“I had a nightmare,” Hwanwoong admitted, “About my past.”

“I’m sorry,” Dongju offered, “I can beat up whoever made you feel like you are now?” 

“No offense, but I think you’d lose,” Hwanwoong said, laughing drily, balancing his chin on his knees, arms around his legs. 

“That’s probably fair, but they won’t expect me to use my teeth,” Dongju said, snapping his teeth together as if to prove the point. 

“What are you, a vampire?” Hwanwoong asked, laughing more freely now. “You’re not intimidating enough to be one.”

“Good thing those don’t exist,” Dongju said, “I think,” he added, head tilted like he was seriously considering it. 

“You think?” Hwanwoong asked, turning to look at him, surprised to find Dongju looking straight at him, a warmth in his eyes Hwanwoong hadn’t really ever seen before. 

(Maybe he hadn’t been looking.)

“Mmm, maybe, maybe not, it’s like the loch ness monster, there’s an 80-20 shot at it,” Dongju said, seriously, still not looking away from Hwanwoong. 

“You’re insufferable,” Hwanwoong huffed, looking away, out over the water. 

“Only to you,” Dongju said, amusement clear in his voice now. This time, when Hwanwoong looked over, Dongju was looking out over the sea, a far off look in his eyes. 

“My boyfriend abused me,” Hwanwoong said, looking back out to the water, focusing on the moonlight reflecting off it, how it speckled and swayed as the waves moved to the shore and back. “Not with his hands, but he would make me feel like I was nothing. Like I deserved everything he blamed me for.

He ruined friendships for me, until the only friends I had left were his. I was trapped. And when I tried to tell my mother, she didn’t believe me, told me I was crazy and wanted to put me in a ward. She loved him more than me, towards the end, I think.”

There’s a long silence as Hwanwoong debates what to say, whether he should say it. 

“I left one night, while he was out drinking. Took all the money in the house and ran. I ended up here.”

“Someone like that has no rights to live,” Dongju said, after a moment, voice hard and angry. “You didn’t deserve something like that, you’re an angel.”

“It took me some time to realize that,” Hwanwoong said, “I wish I had sooner.”

“I’m glad you’re here now,” Dongju said, “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“You are?” Hwanwoong asked, voice wobbling and he knew he was going to cry. 

“I’m proud of you too,” Dongju said, leaning his head on Hwanwoong’s shoulder, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and then the tears slipped free, streaming down his face. “I’m proud that you got out. You’ve made a life here, not many can say they’ve done something like that.”

“Thank you,” Hwanwoong said through shuddering breaths, and began to sob in earnest. He cried until there was nothing left and even after, and he doesn’t remember stopping, because when he wakes up (and isn’t that weird, falling asleep and not even knowing you have) he’s in his bed, Dongju curled into his side protectively, coat draped over the railing of the bed. 

Sighing, he curled closer, and fell back asleep, only waking up to featherlight brushes of fingers through his hair. 

When he wakes up the second time, Dongju is sitting up, his head in his lap, brushing his fingers through his hair and humming a lullaby, eyes closed, a smile on his lips. 

Hwanwoong wonders, with no small amount of awe, what it would be like to kiss them. 

“Dongju-ah,” Hwanwoong says, voice croaking with sleep. Dongju’s eyes slide open, warm, relaxed, loving. 

“Hyung?” Dongju says, fingers brushing through his hair never taking pause, “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Hwanwoong says, smiles to show he means it, “Because of you.”

“You would have gotten through it without me, you’re so strong,” Dongju says, voice laced with genuine conviction, and Hwanwoong whines, tries to press his face into Dongju’s stomach to hide it. 

“M’not,” Hwanwoong says, muffled through the fabric of Dongju’s shirt. Dongju laughs, a sound Hwanwoong can feel in his face where it’s pressed against his stomach. “You made it so much better.”

“Okay,” Dongju agrees readily, and they sit in silence for a few moments, Hwanwoong curled around Dongju’s torso and Dongju petting his hair, as if they did this every time Dongju stayed over. Hwanwoong loved it, every minute, no, second of it. Each was precious and Hwanwoong wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

And then, as all things do, it came to a sudden, screeching end when someone rang his doorbell. An unusual occurrence, because his house was a ways out of the way and he didn’t have any friends and Mr.Lee should be fine on yard work for at least another week. 

He scrunched his nose as Dongju got up, saying something about getting it for him since he’d had a rough night, and Hwanwoong pouted at the loss of fingers in his hair. 

He snuggled closer into the covers, looking at the coat draped at the edge of his bed with fascination, like he couldn’t believe it was there, and no hanging like a comfort on Dongju’s frame. 

He heard talking at the door, a woman’s voice that almost sounded familiar, and figured it might be one of his coworkers dropping something of his off that he’d forgotten. 

Until the door slammed shut and Dongju walked back into his room, equal parts angry and horrified. 

“What was it?” Hwanwoong asked, sitting up. 

“It was your mother,” Dongju said, “she found you.”

“I don’t want to see her,” Hwanwoong said, ignoring the way there were knocks pounded at his door, as if he would yield to her in her fury. He stopped wanting to do anything for her the moment she laughed in his face about Jaewoo. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave until you did,” Dongju said, reaching out and gently touching the coat, where it stayed splayed out like it belonged there. Dongju made no moves to put it on, despite the obvious comfort it gave him to run his fingers through the fur. 

“I can call the police,” Hwanwoong said, reaching for his phone. “We'll see how she likes being detained.”

Dongju laughed, but tried to cover it up with a cough, to no one’s belief. 

In the end, he didn’t end up calling the police, because after two more rounds of furious knocking, everything fell silent. 

Dongju got up, bringing Hwanwoong with him as easily as breathing and made them cereal. 

“I don’t know how to cook, really,” Dongju admitted, returning the milk to the fridge, “So I hope this is to your standards.”

“It’s okay, I’ll teach you,” Hwanwoong said, picking up his spoon, “It won’t be hard.”

“Who’s teaching it, you?” Dongju asked, grinning. Hwanwoong huffed. 

“What? Am I not good enough for you?” Hwanwoong asked, pouting as he pushed his cereal around in his bowl. 

“No! No, I just, I’ll be way too distracted and accidentally burn something if you do it,” Dongju said, and wow, Hwanwoong had never blushed so hard so quickly. His eyes went wide and he set his spoon down in the bowl before covering his face with his hands. 

“You can’t just say things like that!” Hwanwoong exclaimed, hearing Dongju chuckle warmly somehow much closer than he was a second ago. Hwanwoong lowered his hands, intending to look for the other, and instead getting soft lips pressed to his, Dongju leaning against him, a solid warmth that complimented his cool lips in a way that had Hwanwoong shivering. 

At first, he almost forgot to respond to it, too shocked to kiss back, but after a moment, he adjusted his arms, looping one around Dongju’s neck to pull him closer and eating up the little gasp Dongju made as he pulled him closer. 

They pulled back a moment later, Dongju resting his forehead on Hwanwoong’s. 

“Maybe now I can focus on not burning something,” he said, almost breathless with the awed way he said it. 

“Brat,” Hwanwoong replied, “You could’ve just asked.”

“Would you have said yes?” Dongju asked, deflating a little. Hwanwoong softened, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Yes,” Hwanwoong said, “I probably would’ve agreed the first time we met.”

“My charms are too much,” Dongju said, smiling wide. 

“It’s not everyday a pretty, half-asleep boy shows up to my bar and orders a hot chocolate monstrosity,” Hwanwoong says, “And you distracted me from thinking about my ex.”

“What was that about a monstrosity? It’s the best drink I’ve ever had,” Dongju retorted, pouting. 

“It’s a monstrosity and you know it, baby,” Hwanwoong replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Say it again,” Dongju said, eyes wide as he looked down at Hwanwoong. 

“The monstrosity bit?” Hwanwoong asked, a grin tugging at his lips because he knew exactly what Dongju wanted. When Dongju shook his head, Hwanwoong bit his lip and added, “Or do you like being called baby, my baby?”

“That,” Dongju replied, “S’not a monstrosity.” Dongju’s stomach took that moment to grumble, and Hwanwoong laughed, gently pushing him away. 

“Eat your cereal,” he said, and when Dongju didn’t move, pouting at him, Hwanwoong added, “And then maybe I’ll pet your hair, baby.”

He’s never seen someone move so fast or inhale a bowl of cereal so fast. 

He’s never spent a day better either, even if it was entirely spent holding Dongju in his bed, petting his hair and dozing and kissing everywhere.

The next morning, Hwanwoong has to leave for work, careful to leave a note for the still sleeping Dongju in his bed, coat folded carefully onto the trunk at the foot of his bed to make sure no damage came to it. 

Dongju comes in anyway, two hours in, and orders a hot chocolate with a shit-eating grin on his face and whining for hugs. He only gets two, but that’s because it’s unusually busy, with four whole families deciding for a sit down breakfast that morning. 

After the rush is over, his coworker pulls him aside and says, apropos of nothing, “That woman won’t bother you again. She was asking around about you, and we knew you wanted to be left alone, so some of the officers went to go over to check on you after someone told her where you were. She got booked for harassment, and she’s not allowed back in town. So, don’t worry about it, man.”

“They arrested my mother?” Hwanwoong blurts, eyes wide with pleasant surprise. 

“Oh shit, she was your mom?” His coworker asks, shocked. Hwanwoong shakes his head. 

“She stopped being my mom years ago. She was one of the things I ran from,” Hwanwoong says, and his coworkers nods, relieved. 

“A lot of us run here,” she says, leaning against the bar. “My mother ran here from her abuser, and met my dad. A lot of the older women ran here to get out of arranged marriages. It’s a safe haven, this town. It’s easy for us to recognize it when we know what to look for.”

“Oh,” Hwanwoong says, “Huh.”

“If you want, we’re having an end of summer party down at the main beach on Friday,” she says, “We’ve been holding off because we weren’t sure if you’d want to go. 

“Oh,” Hwanwoong says, louder. “Um, yeah, that’d be, that’d be great,” he says, voice going higher with how happy he is. 

“My name’s Jieun,” she says, “Nice to meet you properly Hwanwoong.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Oh, and I should probably tell you about the other thing about this town,” she says, looking over at where Dongju is tending to the flowers in the box outside the front window. “There’s a lot of stories about selkies here. Rumor has it Mr.Lee’s wife was one. Rumor is Dongju is too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Hwanwoong asks, and Jieun shrugs, a bit of a secret smile on her face. 

“It seemed like it might be useful,” Jieun says, and walks away to welcome the older couple that walks in, the man wearing an almost familiar gray-brown coat. 

After that, he sees them everywhere. Mr.Lee has one he wears when it gets cold, but it looks two sizes too small, but it doesn’t seem to phase him. It smells faintly of a feminine perfume. 

The woman with the new baby wears a coat like it, gray, when it’s raining. Her baby has a matching one.

Jieun’s girlfriend has a coat like it, a dull brown that shines when the light hits it. 

Dongju’s coat remains on his trunk, and he doesn’t leave, even though he’s still paying for his room in the boarding houses. 

He understands. 

“Dongju,” he says one day, coming out of the house with the coat in hand, following Dongju’s answering call to the beach, where Dongju stands looking out over the water. 

“Dongju,” Hwanwoong says, and Dongju looks up, eyes widening when he sees the coat in Hwanwoong’s hands. He starts to cry, fear in his eyes as Hwanwoong holds it out. “It’s yours.”

“Don’t you- don’t you want it?” Dongju asks, voice thick. 

“Oh baby,” Hwanwoong says, stepping forward and wrapping the coat securely around Dongju’s frame, relishing in the way the gray-brown shines in the mild-light of the rain-free day. “I’d love to keep it secure for you while you’re here.”

“But?” Dongju asks, and it almost sounds like hope. He hears a splash out in the water, and finds four seals looking at them. 

“Those your hyungs?” Hwanwoong asks, tilting his head at them. Dongju sniffs, and nods. “They’d miss you a lot if you didn’t go.”

“Yeah,” Dongju agrees, “but I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Hwanwoong says and means it. “I have a whole town looking after me.”

“I was wondering when you’d realize it,” Dongju says, and smiles through the tears. 

“So I’ll be okay, hmm? And you have places to be,” Hwanwoong reminds him, tilting his head towards the seals that have gotten closer. “Introduce me to them when you come back, okay?” 

“Okay,” Dongju agrees, pulling the coat tighter around his frame, looking out to the sea, laughing when one of the bigger ones barks. 

“And I’ll see you in the spring,” Hwanwoong says, smiling wide. “And I’ll keep your coat safe for you, but I’ll never keep you from the sea.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Dongju admits, leaning into Hwanwoong’s hand as it comes up to cup his face. “But I didn’t know if you’d catch on quick enough.”

“Does this mean we’re selkie married now?” Hwanwoong asks, placing a hand on Dongju’s hip. Dongju throws his head back and laughs. 

“No!” A new voice interrupts them, and when Hwanwoong looks over he finds a man with a black coat thrown over his shoulder, naked where his chest rises from the sea. “You have to pass our interrogation first!”

“Understandable,” Hwanwoong calls back, “Can I kiss him goodbye?” 

“Keep it PG!” A different voice says, and a new man, tall and slender has joined the other, and then suddenly there are four naked men half-protruding from the sea, coats wrapped over their shoulders. 

“PG-13,” Dongju demands, pouting. 

“No groping,” says a deep voice. 

“Deal!” Hwanwoong says, dipping Dongju into a long, wet kiss, both of them smiling the whole way through it. When he brings Dongju back up to his feet, he hears clapping and rolls his eyes. 

“You have some good hyungs,” Hwanwoong says, smiling. “I’ll be okay for six months.”

“I’ll always come back,” Dongju says, sounding almost breathless. 

“I know,” Hwanwoong says. “Now strip and get out there. The sooner you’re gone the sooner I get you back. I think.”

“Hah!” Dongju scoffs, already pulling down his pants, “He already wants to get rid of me!” He says, but he smiles while he does. He carefully lifts the coat to get his shirt off, and then kicks his boxers off and starts out the ocean. 

“Stay safe,” Hwanwoong says. 

“Always,” Dongju calls back over his shoulder, and Hwanwoong begins the work of picking up Dongju’s clothes to fold away for spring. 

“I like him,” he hears a voice say before a squawk and the sounds of someone falling unexpectedly into the water. When he looks back over the tall one is struggling back to his feet, splashing as he does, and in Dongju’s place is a small seal, looking amusedly right back at Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong smiles and wades in just enough for Dongju to swim over to him, rubbing against his legs. Hwanwoong smiles and runs his fingers over the top of Dongju’s head. 

He watches five seals swim away, splashing and playing until he can’t see them anymore. He walks back up to the house, puts the clothes in the wash, changes, and heads over to the main beach. 

He notices Jieun’s girlfriend isn’t here, and by the sad look in her eyes and the eyes of a few others, he guesses they’re all in similar states by now. 

He greets her by saying, “So, is there a Partner of a Selkie support group around here or?” Her eyes immediately light up as she shakes her head. 

“No, but we should make one.”

He wakes up the next morning in Jieun’s apartment with a few other selkie partners, all hung over to oblivion but smiling and happy and light because while they may not have their selkies, they have friends and they have support. 

And so, the long countdown until the spring begins in a kitchen filled to the brim with hungry people devouring pancakes drizzled with Mr.Lee’s honey like their lives depend on it. Hwanwoong wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Belladonna by Ava Max
> 
> Fun fact! This fic was originally gonna be keonwoong, but it ended up being xiwoong.


End file.
